Infamous: Resurgence
by bladesonic2005
Summary: The RFI didn't destroy the Conduit gene, just those who carried it. Twenty years after Cole MacGrath's sacrifice, a man named John Porter discovers a First Son research lab and accidentally sets the revival of the Conduits into motion. On hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**Infamous: Resurgence**

**Chapter 1**

**A/N: Playing through Infamous 2 gave me a real desire to write another Infamous fanfiction, and the challenge of explaining a Conduit existing after the canon ending was a welcome one. Hope you all enjoy, and if you read please leave a review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Infamous or it's characters. I do own all original characters.**

* * *

><p><em>Excerpted from the First Sons text <em>Ray Field Power Research, First Edition  
><em>The power of a Conduit is most often stimulated by exposure to Ray Field radiation, although there are cases of Conduits developing their powers naturally over time. The coding for the Conduit gene, as it is colloquially known, is embedded in nearly every human. However, only subjects with a dominant trait have the potential to become Conduits, and therefore are the only ones affected by Ray Field exposure. Should an individual possess a dominant Conduit trait, the potential abilities that the individual could gain from exposure are pre-determined based on many factors. Until the subject's abilites are stimulated, there is no sure way of knowing what combination of powers they might possess. Other mammals that share a similarity to human genetic makeup, like rats, can also be born with a dominant Conduit gene, although in these cases a subject's powers are considerably weaker and exposing them can cause the brain of the subject to overload and shut down permanently.<em>

* * *

><p>"God damn it," the man mumbled. Twenty years after the quarantine that he heard people tell stories about and he was still digging through dumpsters. This time, it wasn't for food, though.<p>

"God damn it!" The man was shouting now, and he banged one of his fists against the top of the metal dumpster. The echo of the contact was loud inside the container, but the man didn't notice. "I know I left them here." John Porter pulled his head out of the dumpster and slumped against it's side. He wiped his hands on the ratty sweatshirt he had on and cursed again, before standing and hurrying through the crowded streets of downtown Empire City. John had a feeling he knew who had taken his Rayacite collection, and he wasn't happy. John knew better than anyone how valuable that stuff was, even more so to him at the current time. Until John had the fragments he had found back, however, he wasn't going to get very far.

John pushed open the rusted doors to a burned-out carcass of a city bus, dragged and shoved into one of the many alleys of the Historic District. A swath of heads appeared over the seats, each one ditry and bedraggled. The number of homeless people skyrocketed after the quarantine twenty years ago, and has only increased. There was one specific homeless person John was looking for at this time, though.

"Frank, wake up," John said loudly. The man in front of him didn't stir, still sleeping soundly on the bench.

"Frank, you rat bastard, wake up!" John kicked the bench and Frank bolted up, stammering and scrambling out of confusion. Once the shock wore off, which only took a few seconds, Frank realized who was shouting at him.

"John, my friend. What can I do for you?"  
>"You can give me my rocks back." Frank chuckled slightly, but John's face remained adamant.<p>

"What're you talking about? What rocks?" John frowned, furrowed his eyebrows, and clenched his fists. The others on the bus were staring now, no longer content in whatever they were doing before the tall man came in.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Frankie boy. Now are you going to give me them back or are we going to have a problem?"

"I still don't know what you're talking about, John." Frank's face remained solid, but his eyes revealed the lie. John smiled slightly for a moment, then struck out at Frank. Frank grunted as he was flung to the side, remaining still for a moment and then pushing himself back up.

"So what are you going to say now?" Frank rubbed his face and sighed.

"Follow me."

* * *

><p>"I hope you're proud of yourself." Frank pointed to the bruise that was quickly forming under his eye.<p>

"That's why we don't steal from people, Frankie." John smirked as he reached out and plucked the Rayacite fragments from the locker that Frank had stashed them in. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Asshole," Frank spat as they left in different directions. John pushed the Rayacite into his pockets and headed for home. Home was an abandoned laboratory on the other side of the district that, best that John could tell, used to be occupied by a group called the First Sons. John had stumbled upon the building while scavenging one day and decided to claim it as his own. The place was secure, available, and had plenty of reading material. John pushed open the heavy door and allowed it to swing shut behind him, then turned each of the many switches that lined the walls and powered on the building. Row after row of fluoresent lights came alive, revealing the massive machines that spired toward the ceiling. John pulled the Rayacite from his pockets, then added them to his existing collection, which he gathered and carried with him. The living area that John had established in the upper area gave way to an expansive workshop, with rows of smaller machines lining the spaces between the three larger ones. The largest of those three was the one that kept John enthralled the most. He found plenty of research regarding it, found the paper that designated it the 'Ray Field Exposure Chamber', and even found what it does and how it's the key to everything the First Sons had worked for.

The only thing John needed to find was how to operate the damn thing. John had already tested himself and found he was positive for the Conduit gene, and the instructions printed on the operation panel were clear enough, but every time John tried to activate it, it would just spark and die. Today, John had an idea, though. He had found a port on the side of the machine that he had glanced over before, and managed to piece together an idea from some of the older research documents. From what John could tell, the exposure chamber worked by either pulling existing Ray Field energy from a storage device or by draining neuroelectric energy and converting it. Some of these documents also pointed at Rayacite being a form of Ray Field storage, so in theory placing the Rayacite into the device would activate it. And since John had the gene, the exposure to Ray Field energy would activate his potential as a Conduit. All that remained was to load up the machine, strap himself in, and pray to God that it didn't kill him. Or do something even worse.


	2. Chapter 2

**Infamous: Resurgence**

**Chapter 2**

**A/N: This chapter is going up closer to the last sooner than I'm planning for the rest of this story, so don't expect a new chapter every day xD Hopefully you enjoy, and please leave a review.**

* * *

><p><em>Excerpted from the First Sons text <em>Ray Field Power Research, First Edition  
><em>The power of psychokinesis can be one that is difficult to understand, because it is separate from any other category of power. A Conduit with this ability can channel their energy to massively expand the capabilities of the human brain. A psychokinetic is essentially using their mind to warp the reality around their target. At advanced levels, a Conduit could potentially shift or alter all of reality - perhaps permanently. Psychokinesis cannot be used to a damaging extent to the user's body, but overuse of the ability has been known to create symptoms similar to paranoid Schizophrenia.<em>

* * *

><p>The legend of Cole MacGrath had spread like wildfire, but only those who had met the man and witnessed his heroics could believe it. The media and the government had covered up the true events of those few short months, and only through word of mouth could Cole live on as a modern folk legend. The son of Zeus who gave his life and the lives of those like him in order to save the world. When summed up like that, a comparison to Jesus Christ could be easy to make, and the people who had experienced his actions knew the comparison wasn't far off. Cole MacGrath was a true savior, healing the sick and saving those in need from their oppressors. For a time the people of New Marais honored Cole as their patron saint, but it wasn't to last. And so Cole MacGrath's life took on the role of the children's bedtime story, and the truth slowly dissipated into ether.<p>

John had stumbled upon a file in the research library that held a highly detailed biography of Cole MacGrath. The First Sons, led by a man named Kessler, had forcibly bestowed powers on him. Journal entries from Kessler explained how Cole was destined to save the world, how Kessler was in fact Cole from decades into the future, and how far Kessler had gone to ensure Cole would be able to complete his task. Later documents illustrated his two battles with The Beast, and how he had destroyed his enemy. The last entry was a photo of a plaque marked in his name, and a footnote describing it's location at the spot where Cole gained his powers, before Empire City was rebuilt. John had studied Cole's file intensely, piecing together the background and fact-checking the story he had heard time and time again. John found a sort of peace in knowing the truth of the man's life, so that at least he would not be completely forgotten.

John recounted the story again as he slowly strapped himself into the exposure chamber. The straps pulled tight across his chest and over his shoulders, but John could still reach the activation panel. He took a deep breath and turned the dial. The machine groaned to life, but there was nothing after that. John sighed, counted another failure, and reached again for the dial to turn it off. Before he could, however, the machine truly came alive. A loud mechanical hiss filled the lab, echoing off the high ceiling and metal walls. John smiled as he watched a row of lights slowly brighten on the panel, indicating the Ray Field charge. As they tipped into the green, the hiss whined to an end and the device released a click.

The lights in the lab were quickly extinguished as the machine drew more power and the process of Ray Field exposure began. John felt the hairs on his arm raise as the radiation was pumped into him. It was gentle at first, nothing more than a slight and comforting tingle. It grew rapidly, violently, into a sharp, stabbing pain, relentless and all-encompassing. John could do nothing but grind his teeth and thrash in the restraints as the pain grew. The blue-purple glow of the Ray Field energy blurred as John's vision darkened, his mind shutting out the anguish as best it could. The process continued but the torment ended as John went slack in the harness.

* * *

><p>The exposure process ended within the hour but John's coma lasted much longer. When he finally came to almost three days later, his body was battered, starved, and dehydrated. John fumbled with the restrains and stumbled out of the machine. His main priority was food and water, and luckily he had a stash in the lab. John hastily devoured his small meal and drained the bottle of water without a second's hesitation. With that accomplished, John's mind began the slow process of rebooting itself. With it came a realization of what he was doing in that chamber in the first place. <em>Powers. I have superpowers. <em>John flexed his fingers, trying to find any clue to what he might have. Cole came to mind, and his control of electricity. John stretched out his hand toward the metal counter in front of him and focused on creating a spark. Anything that might pass a current. It wasn't happening though. _Not electrical, then._

Nothing that John tried for the rest of the day proved successful. He tried moving water, igniting a fire, even reading the mind of a pedestrian. It was impossible. Ray Field exposure unlocks a Conduit's powers, and John was certain he was a Conduit. Something had gone wrong. He had spent three days in a coma, all those years pouring over the research, all for naught. John clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and channeled his anger into something. Anything. He didn't feel any different. When John opened his eyes, however, something was very different.

He was standing outside. John had been in the lab, rereading some of the research. It should have been obvious then, but John's mind was still sluggish after being asleep for three days. Slowly, he came to the clear conclusion. He contained his outburst until he was back in the lab, as there were pedestrians around him, but the excitement was nigh uncontrollable.

_I can teleport!_ John raised his fists in victory; he had reached his potential. Furthered himself as a human. Perhaps even became something that wasn't human. There was something else though, a tinge of disappointment. John had expected more. Teleportation alone wasn't much beyond the flair. _There has to be something else._ Becoming more desperate, John now focused on something he hadn't yet tried: psychokinesis. Furrowing his brow, John fixed his stare on a small scrap of metal that was resting on one of the toolbenches. He imagined the metal floating in the air, unassisted by any means. After a few moments of intense focus, the metal twitched on it's own accord, slowly lifting into the air. Another exclamation and burst of elation came over John as he made the piece of metal dance in nothingness, swaying it gently side to side inches above the table. When he broke his concentration, it clanged back to the workbench as though nothing had happened.

There was one last thing that John had to see; whether he was any different on the outside. The Ray Field energy can change a person so drastically in their core, so it must be able to alter their body as well. John lifted a piece of polished metal he often used as a mirror, and examined himself from head to toe. Everything was in place and nothing was changed, except for one. John opened his eyes wide and turned his face toward the light, and it became obvious. His eyes had become red. Not bloodshot, nor irritated, but the actual color of his iris had become a dark, ruby red where they had once been a light green. John smiled slightly at his badge of honor. He was certainly proud of what he had become.


	3. Chapter 3

**Infamous: Resurgence**

**Chapter 3**

**Sorry about the uncharacteristic wait. For some reason this chapter was more difficult to write than the last two. I promise that in the next two chapters the story will actually start moving. As always, if you read this story please leave a review, because reviews make me happy.**

* * *

><p><em>Excerpt from the First Sons text <em>Ray Field Power Research, First Edition  
><em>The methods of recharging a Conduit's energy supply depend on the type of power a Conduit is given. Energy manipulators can often draw from the elements, whereas a Conduit who cannot access energy directly may require a more primitive source of neurobiological energy. As Conduits become more advanced, their energy store becomes more effective and some even can recharge their store simply by resting or eating. As a Conduit grows more powerful, the form of their energy takes on a new shape. Most Conduits begin with a simple neurobiological energy store, but as they hone their powers the store may become a different form. For example, a manipulator of electricity will be able to store electric current in his or her body, making the process of activating their powers more efficient.<em>

It had been only a few days since John woke up a new man, strapped into a machine that was decades old. Just a few days since he was able to move objects with willpower alone; appear from nothing in the blink of an eye. A few short days, and already he could lift the larger machines in the workshop with his mind. John's powers were rapidly increasing in strength, at a speed that the First Sons text never alluded to. This clearly wasn't par for the course, and it did make John a bit uneasy. Still, there wasn't much that John could do but go along for the ride.

John was wary of using his powers in public before he was stronger. Seeing someone move a car without touching it was sure to cause a bit of panic, and probably a lot of interest. Before John was to take on any real competition, he wanted to train his powers. Three paper dummies stood at the far end of the building, mocking John with their doodled-on faces and eyes set slightly askew. Immediately before him was a toolbench, with an array of scrap metal and small tools strewn out. John focused on one of the tools, a screwdriver, and it sprung into the air. That was the easy part. Getting something into the air had become second nature to John. Even moving an object was nearly as easy as walking. However, what he wanted to try was new to him. John shifted his gaze to one of the paper dummies. He imagined the screwdriver shooting forth, flying through the air and skewering the dummy. The screwdriver shuddered in the air, then tumbled forward, moving about a foot from where it had started. John sighed. Nobody had said it would be easy. John put the tool back on the bench, took a few breaths, and tried again.

* * *

><p>John spent the better part of the day trying to throw a screwdriver at a piece of paper, and when he finally succeeded he was exhausted. He felt drained of all the energy that he had, like he hadn't had water in days. The library, where John was now, seemed a completely different world from the rest of the building. The workshop had corrugated metal walls and bare ceiling that exposed the complex network of catwalks. No two ways about it, the place was made for work. The research library, however, had wooden wall panels, oak bookcases, and even carpeting. It was in here that John spent most of his time, hours and hours wasted in the research.<p>

The First Sons had a complex and cloak-and-dagger history. There were coups, time travel, and government conspiracy. It was a science fiction lovers dream. The best part, though, was that it was all true. Perhaps a bit biased considering the source, but every word was at least rooted in something that actually happened. John had been enthralled by the organization since he first stumbled upon the research held in the library. Once John started tinkering with the machines, this interest skyrocketed. Now, John had become exponentially more curious about the experiments into actual powers. John passed his hand along the spines of the innumerable books that lined the walls of the library. He plucked a few from their homes on the bookshelves, then set them on the desk, before lowering himself into a chair by the desk. John hefted the first volume, entitled _Ray Field Power Research_, turned to the first page, and started reading.

* * *

><p>John sighed and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose as he set the book he had been reading aside. He managed to power through half of it before succumbing to the need for sleep. John stood and stretched, then fumbled out the door, into the workshop, and up the short staircase to the living area. John quite literally fell onto his bed, before rolling over and reaching for the clock he kept nearby. As he grabbed the clock to turn it, something unexpected happened. Before John's eyes, the electrical energy from the clock poured from it, then shooting up John's arm and into his body. It only lasted a moment, but John felt as though he was suddenly hit with a dose of caffeine. The clock was dead, its LED display dark. John's mind flashed to the book he had been reading. Something about how certain Conduits could recharge from an elemental source. But they had to manipulate an element to do that, and John had only managed to move things with his mind. Considering the rate his powers were developing at, however, nothing was out of the realm of possibility. However, John was too tired to worry about it, and instead lay his head down and went promptly to sleep.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Infamous: Resurgence**

**Chapter 4**

**A/N: There's finally some action in this chapter! Please leave a review if you read, etc. etc.**

* * *

><p><em>Excerpt from the First Sons text <em>Ray Field Power Research, First Edition

_Instead of using fire, water, or electricity, raw energy manipulation is sourced directly from the Conduit's life force. The Conduit is, in a way, projecting a part of their soul outward and manipulating it. Although doing this can quickly weaken a Conduit, they can also restore their life force from any form of energy. For example, a Conduit with this power can tap into an electrical source and their body will convert the electrical energy into raw energy. At advanced levels, a user of this ability could reanimate a body by infusing it with life energy, but at the cost of the Conduit's own life. Overuse of this ability is fatal in all cases, and artificial restoration of life force can result in numerous unpredictable changes._

* * *

><p>John flashed to the main entrance to his lab, then pushed the heavy door open. The morning sun poured in, the first that John had seen in days. His eyes adjusted quickly and he stepped forward onto the streets of Empire City. John rubbed his hands together, then set off toward the center of town. There was always some sort of petty crime going on around the city. It started with the quarantine two decades ago, when the Empire City Police Department nearly went extinct. Ever since, crime has risen exponentially. It was almost painful for locals to admit that Empire City might be more of a dump now than before the blast.<p>

John had a mind to try and take care of a few crimes himself. The average purse snatcher would turn tail and run at the sight of a man throwing a car at them, so it's not like John was up for much of a challenge. As John rounded a corner into an alley, he faced the first challenger. Someone was holding up a man for his wallet. John took a deep breath, summoned any courage he had, flexed his fingers.

"Hey, asshole." The someone, a short man with a mask pulled over his face, turned toward John, then pointed the gun toward him.

"Get out of here, you bum," the robber shouted. "I don't have time for you." John laughed and scanned the ground for something to use as a weapon. Not much.

"You picked a pretty bad time to rob that guy." John pointed at the man's gun, willed it out of his hand. Caught off guard, the robber could only watch as his weapon disappeared into the sky. His eyes went wide, but apparently decided he would worry about it later as he drew a knife from his jacket. John scoffed again. "I just threw your gun over a building, and you think I'm afraid of a knife?" The masked man shook his head.

"Not yet. But you will be." The man charged at John, the knife readied for a slash. John thrust out his hand, tried to push him back or twist the knife away. What happened instead was much more spectacular.

John gritted his teeth as a flash of green exploded from his palm. The energy splashed over his attacker's chest, tossing him aside like a piece of trash. John stared wide-eyed at his hand, trying to do it again. A small orb of the same energy blossomed in his hand, rippling against the wind. John prodded at it with his other hand, and it disappeared as quickly as it came. John laughed, then returned to the matter at hand. He grabbed the attacker by the collar and heaved him out of the trash pile, before tossing him down the alley and watching as he scrambled away. Next, John turned to where the victim was standing. He was staring slack-jawed at John, who waved a hand in front of the man's face.

"You alright, man?" John asked. "Not hurt or anything?" The man shook his head.

"How'd you do that?" John thought for a moment.

"Don't worry about it." With a flash, John was gone.

* * *

><p>John glared at the paper targets, arm outstretched. He focused on the energy that he used earlier that day. He could feel it; it wasn't like the energy he used to move things, or to teleport. It was centered in his chest, and it felt as though it had a life of it's own. John summoned it and it shot out his hand, punching through the target before dissipating against the concrete wall behind it. John adjusted his aim and tried again, with the same results. John then turned his hand over and pulled the energy out. It sprung to life, floating above his palm in a neat sphere. John juggled it between his hands before lazily tossing it toward the last target. As it hit the ground, it swirled upward, green tendrils engulfing the paper. It then disappeared in a burst of green sparks. The paper fell to the ground, sliced apart by the energy.<p>

"This is so cool," John whispered, staring at his palm. He felt drained, though. Using that energy was more taxing than psychokinesis. John mounted the steps to his living area and placed his hand on the clock, hoping for a repeat of last night. Nothing happened for a moment, but then John felt the electricity. He focused on it, tapped into it, and it sprung out before surging into his arm. John flexed his hand, then shook it out. Green sparks scattered across the floor, skipping across the metal before vanishing. John shrugged, then looked at the clock. It still glowed, ever so faintly. The red display read 1:34, so John lowered himself onto the bed and went to sleep, preparing for the next day.

* * *

><p>Sometimes it surprised John that in the year 2029 there was still a market for newspapers, but he wasn't about to complain. He lifted the discarded paper from the trash can and scanned the front page. The top headline made him smile and grimace in the same movement. 'Empire City's Superman?' was splashed across the top, with a witness drawing of John below. John skimmed the article, then tossed it back into the trash and pulled his hood up. It was a futile effort, however, as John spotted a group of figures moving toward him. They stopped John as he tried to dart down an alley.<p>

"Yeah, you're that Superman, ain't you?" The leader said. John laughed nervously as he turned toward him.

"Definitely him, Sam," one of his lackeys offered. The other nodded, as though a third opinion was needed.

"Hey, Superman, how'd you get to do all that stuff?" John shrugged his shoulders.

"It just came to me." One of the others stepped forward, edging in front of the first.

"Why don't you show us one of your powers, Superman?" John was fairly tall, at six feet two inches. All three of these guys trumped him, and even with powers John wasn't thrilled about his odds in a fight.

"Alright. I bet you'll like this one." John rubbed his hands together, before disappearing into the shadows of the alley. He watched with a smile as the group looked around, incredulous. Then one of them pointed toward John, and they charged down the alley. John turned and darted, not daring to look behind him. The sound of a gun being loaded told the whole story. A shot smashed into the side of a building next to John, splintering concrete. John reached the end of the alley, a wooden fence blocking his path. John scrambled up the fence and continued across the street into the next alley, before flashing a few blocks away. He missed the landing, however, and appeared in the middle of a crowd on the sidewalk. A few people in the crowd noticed him, started asking questions and attracting even more attention. John pushed his way out of the closing crowd and took off into another alleyway. Confirming he was safe, John slumped against a wall, trying to catch his breath. It seemed that this hero thing was going to be more difficult than expected.


	5. Chapter 5

**Infamous: Resurgence**

**Chapter 5**

**This one is a biggun. Longest chapter yet. Let me know what you think in the reviews, and thanks for reading.**

* * *

><p><em>Excerpt from the First Sons text <em>Ray Field Power Research, First Edition

_Ray Field energy is notoriously unstable, and decays at an alarming rate. As long as Ray Field energy is present, it can be used in an Ray Field device. However, all tests using decayed Ray Field energy indicate that the more decayed the energy, the more unstable the Conduit becomes. In best circumstances, the Conduit's abilities will grow uncontrollably. At worst, they become consumed by the energy and cannot control their bodies any more._

* * *

><p>Victor Strausman never enjoyed a mission briefing as much as he was enjoying today's. Even if the briefing was at three in the morning, it was bound to be a good one.<p>

"Alright, Strausman. We've got a rogue Conduit in Empire City. Nobody knows how he gained powers, or if there are others like him. He's definitely a Conduit though, we've got eyewitness reports and security camera footage." The NSA director, a steel-haired, stocky man by the name of James Radmir, slid a file across the desk to Victor. "This is the kid's profile." Victor picked up the folder, stamped 'CLASSIFIED', and flipped it open. _John Porter, age 20, the usual. _

"So this guy's got powers?" James nodded.

"According to witnesses, he can teleport, move stuff with his mind, and shoot some sort of energy out of his hands." Victor flipped through the pages in the file. There weren't many, and those that were there were severely redacted.

"He doesn't have much of a record," Victor thought out loud.

"Was orphaned at age three, been homeless since he turned 18." Victor plucked a color photo from the file and examined it. _Yeah, this all looks right. Except for..._

"Sir, his file says he has green eyes. They're definitely red."

"Well, change it then. It doesn't really matter." James sighed and scratched his beard. "I just need you to get to Empire and take care of him. He doesn't have any family, friends, nothing. He can just be wiped clean." Victor rolled his neck, then closed the file. "We can't have another Empire Event on our hands, Strausman." Victor clapped his hands before standing, James following suit. "There's a chopper waiting for you." The two shook hands. "Good luck, Victor." Victor smiled.

"Sir."

* * *

><p>John groaned as he rolled out of bed, sore and exhausted. Yesterday had been a fiasco, trying to gather supplies while avoiding anyone who looked at him with even a hint of recognition. He had still accomplished his mission of looting a gas camp stove and some cookware from the trash behind an outdoor supply shop. John had become accustomed to living off what he could find early on in his adult life. Once he turned 18 and left the orphanage, John was officially homeless. He scrounged for meals and tried to find odd jobs to make at least a little money. Finding the lab had been a godsend; John wasn't left out in the rain and actually had a place to sleep at night. Getting power into the lab was as simple as hacking into the power lines outside the lab, and over time John managed to accumulate quite a collection of scavenged household items. He still found work and food wherever he could, but there was an actual place to go home to.<p>

John fired up the gas stove and placed some coffee over the flame, then settled into a chair and summoned some energy. It sprung to life in John's palm, holding it's shape in the absence of wind. John still wasn't certain of the extent of this energy's power, or what he could do with it. So far, John was able to make a crude grenade and fire it as a bolt, and that was about it. Curious, John placed a finger from his free hand over the gas flame, withstanding the primal urge to draw it out. Once he was, loosely put, satisfied, John placed his wounded finger in the orb of energy. It was drawn toward the burn, emitting sparks as it healed the skin and sealed the scar. _Good to know, _John thought as he flexed his hand. John was abruptly pulled from his amazement as the door to the lab sailed across the room, skidding to a stop halfway across the workshop.

"Hey, Superman, looks like we found your lair." John cursed as the three thugs that had stopped him on the street surged into the lab, weapons drawn. This time, running wasn't an option. John lobbed what was left of the energy in his hand toward the group as he dove across the floor, seeking cover behind a table. Green energy engulfed one of the thugs, sending him crashing to the ground. The other two let loose a hailstorm of bullets toward John, who was crouched behind the table. John rolled out and fired a bolt toward the second follower, who yelped as it sailed past him by a hairsbreadth. The leader responded with another volley of gunshots, which John barely deflected with his powers. They ricocheted through the shop before embedding themselves in a wooden workbench behind John.

Disgruntled, John vaulted over the table and tossed another grenade at the follower. He too was dispatched by the blast, which flung him into the workshop. John put a bolt into the incapacitated man's head, knocking him cold; he then turned his attention to the last one standing. John wrenched the gun from his grip, pushing it out the open doorway.

"I ain't afraid of you, Superman!" the man shouted, trying to discourage John. He jumped down the steps and threw a punch toward John, who clumsily ducked under it. John pushed the attacker away before putting a few bolts into his chest. With a sigh, John dusted himself off. The sound of footsteps on the metal reached him a few seconds too late, and when John turned the last thing he saw was the haymaker coming for his temple.

* * *

><p>John grunted and pushed himself off the floor. He looked around the lab, dazed. The place was a disaster; papers were scattered across the floor, the front door was laying across the room, and there were bullet holes in most of the furniture. John took a closer look around the lab. Everything seemed to be in place, barring one thing. John cursed aloud as he stared at the empty space where the Ray Field device once sat. It had to have taken all three of those thugs to get it out of the lab, and only God knew where they stashed it. John kicked at the trash at his feet, scattering shreds of paper and metal across the floor. John caught a glimpse of himself in his makeshift mirror. A large purple bruise was already well-formed around his eye. John grimaced and put a finger up to it, watching as green sparks tended to the wound. The bruise shrank away into nothing, the sparks following suit.<p>

Again the Ray Field device took over John's thoughts; the last thing that he needed was some superpowered thugs terrorizing the city. Hero-John had enough trouble to deal with already, taking care of the skyrocketing publicity and the petty crime. In retrospect it was to be expected, but John's life was becoming more like a comic book with each passing day. The mounting stress was exacerbated by the fact that John was going it alone. Completely alone. As much as he hated to admit it, John was very much a shut-in. Most of his relationships were just business, and even his closest acquaintances were, well, just acquaintances. Still, there were more pressing matters than John's lack of a social life. With a sigh and a snap of his clothing, John headed out the door and into the midday sun of Empire City.

* * *

><p>Victor was having one hell of a day. First off was the chopper ride; Victor never cared for helicopters, but for some reason this one was particularly bad. He would have preferred riding in coach next to a crying infant. Next was the three hours spent hunting down this Conduit, trekking back and forth across the Historic District following leads. By noon, Victor had resorted to stopping people on the street and asking for information. That tactic was getting him nowhere at the speed of light, however.<p>

"Excuse me, miss," Victor directed at a young woman walking down the street toward him. He held out the photo of the Conduit. "Do you know anything about this man?" The woman examined the photo for a moment, then her face lit up as though she was seeing a picture of a long-lost friend.

"Yeah, of course!" She exclaimed. "That's the Superman!" Not even two days and this kid was known up and down the east coast, it seemed. And Victor wasn't about to get any useful information from these random passers-by. He nodded and thanked the woman for her time, then continued his trudge through the streets. At the next corner, Victor struck gold. He held out the photo at arm's length, then scanned the crowd across the street. _That's definitely the kid,_ Victor thought with a sense of victory. Apparently, the Conduit had caught on, and he calmly made an exit from the crowd before disappearing into an alleyway. Not about to lose his only lead, Victor took off across the street, narrowly avoiding the heavy lunch-hour traffic that flew past.

Victor tore through the alley, searching for the Conduit. He spotted him a bit further up, turning onto another street. Victor sprinted the last few yards and rounded the corner, catching the kid by the shoulder before he could disappear into the crowd again.

"You wouldn't happen to be John Porter, would you?" Victor panted. The kid seemed caught off guard.

"It seems like most people just call me the Superman nowadays." After surprise came suspicion. "How do you know my name?" Victor reached down to his belt and flipped open the cover to his badge.

"Victor Strausman, NSA." Next in line was a grimace that clearly explained what the Conduit thought about the government. "Mind if we take a walk, John?"

"That's what I was doing."

* * *

><p>"So that's what I'm doing here, and why I need you." Victor finished explaining as John was dragged along through the streets of Empire City.<p>

"Well, that all sounds great, Victor, but I've got a few problems of my own." Victor raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah? What might those be?"

"Oh, you're gonna love this one. The machine that gives potential Conduits powers? It got stolen from me last night. So now I've got to find this thing and get it back before the whole city gets overrun by psychopaths that can throw fire." Victor stopped mid-stride, and John turned to face him.

"This, uh, complicates the matter."

"Yeah, I figured it might." Victor pulled some sort of device from his pocket, tapped out a quick message, and returned it.

"Well, it looks like we might be working together to get this thing back for you, then." John suppressed the urge to roll his eyes or scoff.

"Sounds fantastic." Victor was either immune to sarcasm or was very good at the 'government spook' act, because he showed no reaction at all.

"Let's head back to your lab and get this whole thing figured out, then." John smiled cooly.

"Let's."


End file.
